“So Rockton gets bacon for breakfast this week?” I ask as I eat more sausage.
“You get bacon. And cardamom sausage. Eric, too, if he asks nicely. You must make him ask nicely. Which means you will probably get all the bacon.”
“Oh, I can get him to ask nicely.”
Mathias laughs. “I am sure you can. People keep waiting for Eric to be more pleasant, now that he has a girl. The only difference? He scowls a little less when he throws people in his cell.”
I shake my head and push the empty plate aside. “While I appreciate the gesture, I can’t take all the bacon. That’s not fair.”
“Fair is for fools. It is your first pig. It is yours. No argument.” He takes the plate. “And it is a bribe, as well. Take the sausage and the bacon, and do not ask me what you came here to ask me.”
“Then you need to keep the meat, Mathias. I have to ask.”
“No, you do not. I know the question, and I will answer it with a resounding no. Good enough?”
I sigh and lean on the counter. I say nothing. I just wait.
“You are going to tell me that you need me,” he says. “You are going to tell me the sad story of this girl I cannot remember.”
“Is there any point?”
“No. You are right—her story will not move me, so you will not relate it. Instead, you will remind me of my responsibilities as a member of this community. You will do it subtly. Not like Eric.” He switches to English and a dead-on impersonation of Dalton. “You were a fucking shrink, Mathias. That means you have a fucking medical degree and a fucking psychiatry degree, and we need both, so stop whining about how you’re out of practice, and get your fucking ass over to that house.”
Mathias reaches under the counter and takes out a knife and a sharpening stone. He works on the blade while we talk. He does that a lot. Not surprisingly, it freaks people out. Honestly, though, it’s just busywork. Mathias isn’t good at doing nothing except talking. And, yes, I suspect his choice of task isn’t accidental. It amuses him. With me, though, there’s no message, other than the one that says this conversation isn’t engaging enough to occupy his entire attention.
“Eric is a good man,” he says. “I like him. You may even tell him that. He would not use it against me. He doesn’t know how. It is not in his nature. You, though?” He waggles the knife at me. “You are different. You are devious. Cunning.”
“Coming from you, I take that as a compliment. I’m asking you for a favor, Mathias. I know you never practiced medicine. I know you haven’t practiced psychiatry since you got here. I don’t care. I just want you to talk to Nicole. Name your price.”
“It’s not a favor if there’s a price.”
“A favor implies a future price. I like mine determined up front.”
“Good. Open-ended favors are trouble. People will take advantage of you.” He resumes sharpening. “You know I like that you speak French to me. And you are interesting. Here? Interesting is the best thing a person can be. You are also very easy to look at. That never hurts. But do you know what’s more dangerous than a pretty girl?”
“A pretty girl with a gun?”
He laughs. “No, a pretty girl who is also clever. She knows exactly what to say to make you pay attention, and you are already paying attention because she is pretty. Very dangerous.”
“You’re prevaricating. Which means I do have your attention.”
“Always.” He sets the knife down. “I will not see this Nicole. But I do want something. My five years will be complete this spring. I wish to stay. I believe I have proven my worth. Isabel stays.”
“Isabel pays to stay.”
“Mmm, I believe Isabel does not need to pay much. Do you know what is even more dangerous than a pretty and clever girl? A pretty and clever woman. Isabel knows the most valuable currency in Rockton is secrets, and she holds more of those than anyone. I have money, yes. Secrets? No. But I want to stay.”
“Right, well, considering you just told me you won’t talk to Nicole, there’s no deal to be made.”
The shop door opens. Mathias barks, “Fermé!” and even if the unseen customer doesn’t know what the word means, he decides a hasty departure seems wise.
Once the door has shut, Mathias turns to me. “When I was a psychiatrist, I had a specialty: studying psychopaths, sociopaths, and others with antisocial personality disorder. Do you know the difference?”
“Roughly, but you’re telling me this because Nicole is none of the above.”
“Unless she allowed herself to be kept in a hole for a year. Now, that would be a truly fascinating psychology. I saw something similar once, yet it was not nearly so extreme as this. We will presume, for the sake of argument, that this girl did not give permission. But what you missed in my job description was the keyword, which was overshadowed by the more powerful ones.”
I think for a moment. “Study. You said you studied them. Which means you aren’t a therapist. But we have Isabel for that. I want an assessment. That’s what you did.”
“True.” He picks up another knife and begins sharpening it. “People take offense when I do this. You do not. Eric does not. Isabel just tells me to put the damned knife away. Do you know why it does not bother you three?”
“Because we don’t think you’re going to carve us up for tomorrow’s tourtière?”